


Comforting Threats

by musicalsmarvelandmore



Series: Newsies (Mostly Sprace) One Shots [3]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Protective Spot, Sick Race
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23994175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalsmarvelandmore/pseuds/musicalsmarvelandmore
Summary: The winter is particularly rough, so Race goes to sell even though he's sick. At least, he tries to until someone stops him.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Newsies (Mostly Sprace) One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593484
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	Comforting Threats

Race stifled a cough. He felt awful, but he couldn’t afford to not sell.

Most of the lodging house was coming down with something, and Jack wouldn’t be able to afford rent for all the boys on his own.

His throat was burning, and he was sure his voice would sound raspy if he spoke. Hopefully, he’d be able to use his cigar to hide that, if it came down to it. Jack was in full caretaker mode. Race couldn’t blame him. It was scary that all these boys were sick. They didn’t want to lose anyone.

Getting ready for the day, lodging wasn’t as loud as it typically was. No one had enough energy to mess around. Mush was back up, which was a relief, even though he still didn’t look so great. More like death warmed over. But at least he was upright, and well enough that he thought he could go sell.

Albert was out though, lying in his bed paler than ever. He hadn’t been looking so good yesterday, but even though it was expected, it still sucked that he was this sick. Race ruffled his hair. Al swatted up at him in response, not even looking, but there wasn’t a whole lot of force behind it.

“Racer, get outta here,” Al groaned, his face buried in his pillow so that his words came out muffled.

Race wanted to shoot something back in return, but apparently having a burning throat was the one thing that would stop him from telling Al not to throw any wild parties while Race was out. Oh well. It wasn’t that good anyway.

His head hurt a little, but he got plenty of headaches. This was nothing to worry about. Race was just being dumb, which wasn’t a shock either. It was normal. Everything going on here was completely normal. He was definitely fine to sell today.

The group of boys that dragged themselves out of lodging this morning looked bedraggled, like they were homeless and starving. Honestly, at this point, they might as well be. It definitely sucked, but there was nothing else that could be done about it now, not until things got better and they stopped getting so sick.

Race pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much pressure up there, but honestly, it wasn’t like rest would make him feel any better. Really, it was just going to stress him out even more.

Circulation was much less of an affair as usual. Even though Jack wasn’t sick (well, pretending like he wasn’t, at the very least), none of them could afford the excess energy. They had to sell more papes, or one of their boys would be on the streets. Newsies took care of their own. They were all out of options.

Racer didn’t bother to make a comment to Weez. It just wasn’t worth it. Every single part of his body was just so tired. He went second, like he always did, buying sixty papes. It wouldn’t be easy to sell, but it wasn’t as if he had another choice. This was just going to have to work. It was winter, but he needed people to buy the papes.

Jack grabbed him by the arm before he could set off. “Race, yous doin’ okay? Ya don’t look so hot.”

Race wanted to smirk, but he was just so tired. “Yous one ta talk, Jacky. I’s know you is tired too. We all is.”

The other boy nodded. “Try not to do too much, a’right? ‘Hattan needs us both.”

Race nodded grimly. They had it rough, but they would get through it. They did every winter. Sure, this was a particularly terrible winter, but they’d get through it. Race didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Sheepshead was a lot emptier in the winter, which made selling hard. He needed to sell as many papes as possible on his way to the bridge, but it was hard. It was too cold, and no one wanted to be out on the streets unless they had to be. Most people were in a rush.

To make things even more fun, it started snowing, making the wind feel even worse on the way across the bridge. Race tucked his chin down into himself. It was just so damn cold and it wasn’t like any of the newsies had the money to afford warmer clothes.

The boy shivered, coughing. But he couldn’t focus on all of this stuff while he had a lot more pressing needs. Things sucked, but he just had to believe that they were all going to get better.

The wind had picked up, as well as the snow, the flakes bigger and falling faster. He got a sudden regret for coming across the bridge. Crossing back at the end of the day would be hard, but he had to go back. He needed to stay somewhere with a roof over his head and help take care of the rest of his brothers.

His gloves were holey, but it was better than nothing. Every little bit helped, even though it really didn’t feel like that right now. Race just couldn’t stop shivering.

He sneezed again, which sent him into a coughing fit, every breath getting harder and harder to come in as he was practically wheezing with the effort. He couldn’t think, but geez did that suck.

Race must have lost more sense than he had actually realized, because the next thing he knew, someone was there, grabbing his shoulder. It was strange, but it was almost like it helped.

For a few moments more, the only sound he could hear was his ragged breathing. As he tried to catch his breath, he focused on himself and the person next to him.

Typically, Race would be embarrassed that someone had sneaked up on him like that, but he wasn’t. Part of that was because he felt like crap, but part of it was because he knew who the only person who would find him out here would be. And Racetrack Higgins could always trust Spot Conlon.

When he was more or less breathing normally, the pair of powerful hands maneuvered him to sit down on the curb. 

He finally looked over, confirming his suspicions. He had no idea why Spot had been there, but Spot was always there whenever Race needed him. That was just a part about what was so great about Spot. Or really, just about the both of them together. They had such a great relationship, and nothing could ever stop them.

“Hey, buddy. Let’s get ya outta here.”

Race nodded, coughing again. Everything was hard, but he knew that he’d always be able to trust Spot. Always had, always will.

Beside him, Spot hoisted him up. The snow kept on coming down, landing on Spot’s face and shoulders. It was beautiful. If he wasn’t so bone tired, then he’d definitely be kissing the flakes off of Spot’s face. The two of them, they were just so great. He loved it.

Maybe he was getting a little tired, with how silly he felt right now. Something wasn’t quite right, but he’d get there, especially with all the rest of this stuff going on.

He leaned on Spot, stumbling. Race wasn’t paying attention to where they were going- he didn’t really have a point to and he couldn’t. Everything was blurry. Maybe he was a lot sicked than he had initially thought, but now that Spot was here, Race knew that everything else out here would be okay. The two of them together, they would truly be able to take on absolutely anything. Well, maybe not Race right now.

“Spot, ‘Hattan’s that way,” he said, his words coming out more slurred than he had intended.

“We ain’t going ta ‘Hattan, Racer.”

“But, I’s live in Ma’hattan.”

Spot’s words came after a brief chuckle, and if Race weren’t so tired, he’d want to argue and feel offended. “Racer, yous look like shit. I’s ain’t sending yous back over there.”

“But Spot, they’s need me.”

“Race, I know you want to be needed, but I’s doubt you could do anything to help them looking as shitty as you do now.”

Race pouted as Spot took them towards Brooklyn lodging. “But Spot, I’s thought yous thought I was cute.”

Spot snorted. “Race, do yous have any clue what you is sayin’ right now.”

Race honestly wasn’t sure, as he broke into another coughing fit. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Definitely not a good time. His chest hurt. His nose hurt. He just wanted things to get back to normal, health wise.

When they reached the front of Brooklyn Lodging, Race frowned. “Spot, I’s gotta sell today.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere but to sleep. I dunno how yous even managed to get your sorry self across the bridge today.”

Everything felt kind of foggy. His head hurt, but this all just didn’t feel right because Spot was being just so mean to him. “Spotttt,” he whined.

“Racer, shut up for a sec until we gets upstairs. You’s makin’ a fool outta yousself.”

He stumbled as Spot had to practically drag him up the stairs. Fortunately, it was during the day, so most of the Brooklyn newsies were out selling. It was definitely more empty than Manhattan lodging right now.

“Spot, I’s gonna make yous all sick. Lemme go.”

Spot didn’t answer, instead continuing to force Race towards Spot’s bunk, out of the way since he was the king of Brooklyn. It really wasn’t fair that Spot could physically force him around like that. Sure, Race might not be that tall, but he was taller than Spot.

The other boy pushed Race into his bed. “Get some sleep, Racer.”

“But Spot, I’s gotta sell.”

“Yous ain’t goin’ anywhere. Go to sleep.”

“Spot I-“

“I swear Racer, if yous try to leave, I’ll make yous go to sleep. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

And somehow, that was almost soothing. Trust Spot Conlon to make a threat to his safety sound comforting. That was the two of them.

Maybe Race was a bit more tired, or more like exhausted, then he had realized. As soon as his head landed on Spot’s pillow, he was already falling asleep. Maybe it was nice to have someone else looking out for him other than just his brothers.

He may be sick, but he’d get better and the financial troubles would work out, especially having a great boyfriend like Spot at his side taking care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I finally edited this after finishing writing it two months ago. So finally, here is sick Race and protective amused Spot.


End file.
